The Companions of Jehu by Alexandre Dumas père (bts book recommendations TXT) 📖

see if the secretary's pen were following his every word:


CITIZENS--The Council of the Ancients, the trustee of the nation's
wisdom, has issued the subjoined decree: it is authorized by
articles 102 and 103 of the Constitution.

This decree enjoins me to take measures for the safety of the
National Legislature, and its necessary and momentary removal.


Bourrienne looked at Bonaparte; _instantaneous_ was the word the latter had intended to use, but as the general did not correct himself, Bourrienne left _momentary_.

Bonaparte continued to dictate:


The Legislature will find means to avoid the imminent danger into
which the disorganization of all parts of the administration has
brought us.

But it needs, at this crisis, the united support and confidence of
patriots. Rally around it; it offers the only means of establishing
the Republic on the bases of civil liberty, internal prosperity,
victory and peace.


Bonaparte perused this proclamation, and nodded his head in sign of approval. Then he looked at his watch.

"Eleven o'clock," he said; "there is still time."

Then, seating himself in Bourrienne's chair, he wrote a few words in the form of a note, sealed it, and wrote the address: "To the Citizen Barras."

"Roland," said he, when he had finished, "take a horse out of the stable, or a carriage in the street, and go to Barras' house. I have asked him for an interview tomorrow at midnight. I want an answer."

Roland left the room. A moment later the gallop of a horse resounded through the courtyard, disappearing in the direction of the Rue du Mont-Blanc.

"Now, Bourrienne," said Bonaparte, after listening to the sound, "to-morrow at midnight, whether I am in the house or not, you will take my carriage and go in my stead to Barras."

"In your stead, general?"

"Yes. He will do nothing all day, expecting me to accept him on my side at night. At midnight you will go to him, and say that I have such a bad headache I have had to go to bed, but that I will be with him at seven o'clock in the morning without fail. He will believe you, or he won't believe you; but at any rate it will be too late for him to act against us. By seven in the morning I shall have ten thousand men under my command."

"Very good, general. Have you any other orders for me?"

"No, not this evening," replied Bonaparte. "Be here early to-morrow."

"And I?" asked Lucien.

"See Sieyes; he has the Ancients in the hollow of his hand. Make all your arrangements with him. I don't wish him to be seen here, nor to be seen myself at his house. If by any chance we fail, he is a man to repudiate. After tomorrow I wish to be master of my own actions, and to have no ties with any one."

"Do you think you will need me to-morrow?"

"Come back at night and report what happens."

"Are you going back to the salon?"

"No. I shall wait for Josephine in her own room. Bourrienne, tell her, as you pass through, to get rid of the people as soon as possible."

Then, saluting Bourrienne and his brother with a wave of the hand, he left his study by a private corridor, and went to Josephine's room. There, lighted by a single alabaster lamp, which made the conspirator's brow seem paler than ever, Bonaparte listened to the noise of the carriages, as one after the other they rolled away. At last the sounds ceased, and five minutes later the door opened to admit Josephine.

She was alone, and held a double-branched candlestick in her hand. Her face, lighted by the double flame, expressed the keenest anxiety.

"Well," Bonaparte inquired, "what ails you?"

"I am afraid!" said Josephine.

"Of what? Those fools of the Directory, or the lawyers of the two Councils? Come, come! I have Sieyes with me in the Ancients, and Lucien in the Five Hundred."

"Then all goes well?"

"Wonderfully so!"

"You sent me word that you were waiting for me here, and I feared you had some bad news to tell me."

"Pooh! If I had bad news, do you think I would tell you?"

"How reassuring that is!"

"Well, don't be uneasy, for I have nothing but good news. Only, I have given you a part in the conspiracy."

"What is it?"

"Sit down and write to Gohier."

"That we won't dine with him?"

"On the contrary, ask him to come and breakfast with us. Between those who like each other as we do there can't be too much intercourse."

Josephine sat down at a little rosewood writing desk "Dictate," said she; "I will write."

"Goodness! for them to recognize my style! Nonsense; you know better than I how to write one of those charming notes there is no resisting."

Josephine smiled at the compliment, turned her forehead to Bonaparte, who kissed it lovingly, and wrote the following note, which we have copied from the original:


To the Citizen Gohier, President of the Executive Directory of the
French Republic--


"Is that right?" she asked.

"Perfectly! As he won't wear this title of President much longer, we won't cavil at it."

"Don't you mean to make him something?"

"I'll make him anything he pleases, if he does exactly what I want. Now go on, my dear."

Josephine picked up her pen again and wrote:


Come, my dear Gohier, with your wife, and breakfast with us
to-morrow at eight o'clock. Don't fail, for I have some very
interesting things to tell you.

Adieu, my dear Gohier! With the sincerest friendship,
Yours, LA PAGERIE-BONAPARTE.


"I wrote to-morrow," exclaimed Josephine. "Shall I date it the 17th Brumaire?"

"You won't be wrong," said Bonaparte; "there's midnight striking."

In fact, another day had fallen into the gulf of time; the clock chimed twelve. Bonaparte listened gravely and dreamily. Twenty-four hours only separated him from the solemn day for which he had been scheming for a month, and of which he had dreamed for years.

Let us do now what he would so gladly have done, and spring over those twenty-four hours intervening to the day which history has not yet judged, and see what happened in various parts of Paris, where the events we are about to relate produced an overwhelming sensation.


CHAPTER XXIII

ALEA JACTA EST

At seven in the morning, Fouche, minister of police, entered the bedroom of Gohier, president of the Directory.

"Oh, ho!" said Gohier, when he saw him. "What has happened now, monsieur le ministre, to give me the pleasure of seeing you so early?"

"Don't you know about the decree?" asked Fouche.

"What decree?" asked honest Gohier.

"The decree of the Council of the Ancients."

"When was it issued?"

"Last night."

"So the Council of the Ancients assembles at night now?"

"When matters are urgent, yes."

"And what does the decree say."

"It transfers the legislative sessions to Saint-Cloud."

Gohier felt the blow. He realized the advantage which Bonaparte's daring genius might obtain by this isolation.

"And since when," he asked Fouche, "is the minister of police transformed into a messenger of the Council of the Ancients?"

"That's where you are mistaken, citizen president," replied the ex-Conventional. "I am more than ever minister of police this morning, for I have come to inform you of an act which may have the most serious consequences."

Not being as yet sure of how the conspiracy of the Rue de la Victoire would turn out, Fouche was not averse to keeping open a door for retreat at the Luxembourg. But Gohier, honest as he was, knew the man too well to be his dupe.

"You should have informed me of this decree yesterday, and not this morning; for in making the communication now you are scarcely in advance of the official communication I shall probably receive in a few moments."

As he spoke, an usher opened the door and informed the president that a messenger from the Inspectors of the Council of the Ancients was there, and asked to make him a communication.

"Let him come in," said Gohier.

The messenger entered and handed the president a letter. He broke the seal hastily and read:


CITIZEN PRESIDENT--The Inspecting Commission hasten to inform
you of a decree removing the residence of the legislative body
to Saint-Cloud.

The decree will be forwarded to you; but measures for public
safety are at present occupying our attention.

We invite you to meet the Commission of the Ancients. You will
find Sieyes and Ducos already there.

Fraternal greetings
BARILLON,
FARGUES,
CORNET,


"Very good," said Gohier, dismissing the messenger with a wave of his hand.

The messenger went out. Gohier turned to Fouche.

"Ah!" said he, "the plot is well laid; they inform me of the decree, but they do not send it to me. Happily you are here to tell me the terms of it."

"But," said Fouche, "I don't know them."

"What! do you the minister of police, mean to tell me that you know nothing about this extraordinary session of the Council of the Ancients, when it has been put on record by a decree?"

"Of course I knew it took place, but I was unable to be present."

"And you had no secretary, no amanuensis to send, who could give you an account, word for word, of this session, when in all probability this session will dispose of the fate of France! Ah, citizen Fouche, you are either a very deep, or a very shallow minister of police!"

"Have you any orders to give me, citizen president?" asked Fouche.

"None, citizen minister," replied the president. "If the Directory judges it advisable to issue any orders, it will be to men whom it esteems worthy of its confidence. You may return to those who sent you," he added, turning his back upon the minister.

Fouche went, and Gohier immediately rang his bell. An usher entered.

"Go to Barras, Sieyes, Ducos, and Moulins, and request them to come to me at once. Ah! And at the same time ask Madame Gohier to come into my study, and to bring with her Madame Bonaparte's letter inviting us to breakfast with her."

Five minutes later Madame Gohier entered, fully dressed, with the note in her hand. The invitation was for eight o'clock. It was then half-past seven, and it would take at least twenty minutes to drive from the Luxembourg to the Rue de la Victoire.

"Here it is, my dear," said Madame Gohier, handing the letter to her husband. "It says eight o'clock."

"Yes," replied Gohier, "I was not in doubt about the hour, but about the day."

Taking the note from his wife's hand, he read it over:


Come, my dear Gohier, with your wife,